An Olympian love affair
by Eos Blaze 0402
Summary: Antonin Dolohov aka Hades has a lot on his plate! Managing Underworld is a full time job, and as a recent divorcee, he doesn't expect to fall so quickly for one Hermione Granger, but fall he does. But as they say, the road to happily ever after is not so easy when one considers a nosy ex-wife, godly relatives and an aide who hates rivers, rowing and anything boat with gusto!
1. Chapter 1

**A brand new Dolanger!**

 **Hello, peeps!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the wonderful characters associated with it. JK is the queen and she rules everything. I'm just borrowing them for my fun!**

* * *

 _Is love like the pomegranate seeds, she asked,_

 _Eternally binding you to the one you love?_

* * *

 _Chapter One_

Lord Hades was…not a forgiving man.

No cross that.

He wasn't a forgiving god.

People usually didn't worship him with willingness. They walked to his necropolis in fear that if they didn't, he would bestow some sort of horrible death on them.

As if that was all left for him to do!

Contrary to popular belief, Lord Hades was a very busy god.

There were souls to judge, expansion plans of hell to approve, new ways of killing to devise, and not to forget being a nasty guy altogether when Olympus was in session.

Zeus would have ridden all over him had he not taken a strong stance all those millenniums ago.

Amid all these very time-consuming activities and a scary image to boot that deterred all those nymphs and naiads that wanted to dally with the sexy lord of the underworld, Lord Hades had a secret too.

And that secret was tiny five foot four something female with busy brown hair, hell of an attitude, an intellect that fascinated and exasperated him equally, and a Shakespearean name. Not to mention the eyes, the nose or the lips. Especially the lips! They'd been the star of his daydreams so often.

The sharp sting of claws made him curse and look at the impertinent bird that was perched at the armrest of his throne.

Wretched bird!

Her owl hated him and he hated that bloody bird back.

Owls were Athena's sacred bird and the blasted things had never like him, and this particular one took the enmity to the next level.

Could it be because the bloody bird knew who he really was?

He untied the parchment and unrolled it eagerly.

 _Mr. Dolohov,_

 _For the umpteenth time, you cannot take me as your date to the ministry party. I have already promised Harry that I'll go with him._

 _If any more packages with absurdly expensive dress robes find their way to me, I'll return those with bat bogey hex attached._

 _-Hermione Granger_

 _Senior Undersecretary_

 _Ministry of Magic,_

 _London._

He willed the parchment to rot. Zeus forbid if Hermes or Apollo got their hands on it, they would have it plastered over all the social networking websites of Olympus.

He looked at the bird, giving an annoyed stare. 'Why is it so difficult to ask your mistress out?'

He was a god, for god's sake! And here he was-talking to a bird.

He was about to shoo the bird away and materialize on earth so that he could go and shake some sense into one Hermione Granger, senior Undersecretary to a scared Minister Potter, but his plans were waylaid by his aide Charon who chose that moment to open the very ostentatious gold doors of his judgment hall.

'My lord Hades, or Mr. Dolohov as I should now practice calling you when we are in mixed company,' he said pointing towards the bird.

'What is it, Charon? I was about to-'

'-go and salivated after mortal Granger again. I know that, Lord. I am here about You-know-who.'

'Ah,' Hades sighed knowingly. 'When is she coming this time?'

'Well…she is here, Lord!' Charon conveniently backed away. There was no telling what would happen when Lord Hades was riled up enough, and Zeus knew his ex-wife Persephone always put him in one of his moods.

Last time they had a row, the result had been World War II.

'That blasted woman! Take that bird away, now,' Hades commanded. 'Why does she need to visit the blasted garden? It always remains the same.'

Charon hesitated before answering. After all one couldn't call their employer pig-headed on their face now, could they?

'Respectfully, Lord, you and Lady Persephone share the joint custody of your garden.'

'And whose idea was that?'

'Lord Zeus's, lord.'

'Blasted Zeus.' A thunder rolled in the distance. 'Always putting his nose where it doesn't belong. Wait till I tell Hera all about his business trips to that island of Crete!'

Charon so didn't wanna be dragged between this, because if Lord Zeus even got an idea, he would be stuck to that rowing duty again for eternity this time.

He hated boats and that stupid river Styx.

'I'm sure the grand plan of revenge against my father sounds amazing to your pasty ears, but it is not anything that Queen Hera doesn't know, Hades.'

Hades cursed under his breath and then pasted a smile worthy of Oscar losers on his face before he turned to face the vapid woman he'd called wife for so many millennia's.

'Persephone, it is never a pleasure,' he said with that dopey smile on his face as he bent on her hand to graze it with his lips.

'I, too, am not eager to return to this dusty basement.' She shuddered as she critically examined the dark shining walls that had been the part of her home for some part of year every year.

'Well, aren't I glad to not see your make-up less face every morning,' he snarked, the smile not even budging an inch.

Her face fell but she arranged it too soon for anyone else to notice. Charon was trying his damnedest to sneak out of the hall with a flapping bird in his grasp. And he would have succeeded had Persephone not chosen that moment to concentrate all her bubbling rage on him rather than Hades.

'Charon? Still on Hades' underwear laundry duty?'

'Goddess Persephone-'

'Let's get this over with, Persephone. I don't lounge here all day waiting for your arrival to go see that ugly garden,' Hades interrupted.

'My my Hades, aren't you eager to send me my way? And you were the one who commissioned that ugly ass garden to show your unfaltering love for me!'

Hades partly shoved, partly dragged her out of judgment hall towards the center of the palace where the infamous garden was housed.

The corridors of his palace gleamed darkly beneath the fires burning in the brackets. This was the part of the castle he'd not modernized. Some would say that it had been deliberately left that way. His personal chambers and dining hall had been renovated by some of the best architects and wired by genius electricians if he said so himself.

Not to mention his wi-fi speed was to die for.

Hermione would like it here.

'Hades, I'm saying something. Are you even paying attention?'

'Of course, I am. Who do you take me for? I'm not Ares or Apollo.'

'Now that you bring Ares, would it kill you to visit a tanning salon once in a while? You have grown pastier in my absence,' she said tenderly.

'I don't need to look orange, Persephone,' he muttered. 'I'm not Donald Trump.'

They grew silent after that and stayed that way till they reached "The garden of Persephone".

It wasn't ugly.

Despite both of their vociferous slandering, the garden was one of the most beautiful things that anyone in the Olympian council or mortal world had ever seen. Not that mortals got to see the wonders of Lord Hades' palace. Damn that Rick Riordan for slandering his fearsome reputation!

No plants survived in Underworld and yet somehow Hades had filled this garden with myriad colored roses for Persephone. There were climbers bearing star shaped flowers that emanated a soft sweet fragrance. Neat rows of ruffled parrot tulips in white and maroon tried to bring some much-needed cheer in the somber garden. Dark stone pillars carved out meticulously with beautiful motifs that looked like polished glass surrounded the whole space. The infamous pomegranate trees were also planted at regular intervals, bearing deep red fruits that had split open after ripping. The red pearl-like seeds shone behind the thin paper-like covering.

Persephone raised an involuntary hand towards one fruit but Hades caught it in middle.

'You don't wanna go down the same route again, Persephone. Last time I was a fool and I wanted you down here. This time…'

Persephone looked back at Hades, really looked.

He'd changed after they'd parted. There was just something about him now that hadn't been there when he'd first asked her to come down here and live with him.

'I think it's time I destroyed this garden, Persephone,' he was saying.

Destroy? All this beauty? This symbol of love that still made other goddess's, naiads and nymphs jealous? This precious place that had shouted it out for whole creation how in love with Persephone Hades was?

He wanted to destroy it all?

When they'd parted, she'd thought he would come back. He'd be back at her mother's door demanding her return within few days. But days had turned into months and sympathizing words of other Olympian goddesses had turned into snickers and whispers.

Hades had not come; instead, he'd sent all her belongings-even that Firebolt first edition of his that she'd coveted so much by Charon's hand.

And then he'd petitioned the council for separation.

Her mother had thought good riddance, but Persephone knew that it was anything but.

Hades was the richest god with entire riches of earth on his fingertips. He was powerful-one of the few gods who didn't give a shit about what her dad wanted. And who was she without Hades' name attached to hers?

Just a minor goddess of spring!

'Persephone?'

'You can't destroy it,' she said hastily.

'Can't?' he arched an eyebrow. 'Well Persephone, I didn't know I had to take your permission! This is after all my garden, and I don't want it to look like this for all eternity.'

What was the problem in looking this way?

'And I've lost my taste for colorful roses…'

This was not good.

He'd met someone.

She needed information.

She needed to stage an intervention.

'Hades-'

'I wasn't asking for an opinion, Persephone; I was informing you. So, you can inform Zeus and stop coming here altogether.'

'But Hades-'

'I have to be somewhere else, Persephone. I hope I never see your bland face again in my existence.' And with a flick of his hand, she was gone.

Dealing with Persephone always made him tired.

'Pablo!'

A skinny young man came running at once with a watering can in his hand.

'I want this whole thing-' he pointed at the mass of red and those vapid climbers and creepers '-gone and replaced with the garden plans that Charon will deliver to you.'

'Yes, lord, but the whole thing?'

'Yes, Pablo, the whole fucking thing.'

And then Lord Hades did something Pablo had never seen him do.

He threw his head back and laughed…

* * *

Hermione Granger was having a very bad day.

Her hair refused to get under control. That association of pussy whipped old coots-the Wizengamot had refused to pass her legislation regulating equal pay for equal work. The buggers had no problem with gay marriage but they burst an artery when she demanded they give women equal pay as their male counterparts.

That sodding diva Lucius Malfoy!

She wanted to shave his head to his scalp and parade him around in his undies.

Not to mention Harry-fucking-Potter, the bloody minister for magic still wasn't here and the meeting was about to start-she looked at her watch for a millionth time-in couple of minutes.

She tried to give a smile to her French counterpart which she was sure had come off as grimace-the man was sexist to boot and an utter chauvinist.

'Hermione, before you-'

And Harry Potter was finally here!

She was not in a mood to listen to the excuses of the savior. She threw a silent Silencio as she perfected the messy knot of his tie and tried to flatten his hair that was standing all over the place. He made some motions as if he could convey his same old excuse.

Hermione had heard it all from Harry Potter.

She produced a flask that held the strongest sobering-up potion and shoved it in his mouth.

Minister Potter was a serial womanizer and to keep his pristine image intact in the wizarding world, he did all his bar crawling in Muggle London and Muggle wherever he went on business.

'Thank god for you, Hermione,' he huffed once she removed the silencing charm.

'I know.' She rolled her eyes at the phrase. She'd also heard that numerous times before. 'Now go and charm the French minister in setting up this student exchange program with Beauxbatons.'

'As you command, Madame Undersecretary.'

And he was inside the room, closing the door with a soft thud.

She didn't need Fred and George's extendable ears to know what they were talking about. She knew Harry would stick close to the script if he valued his hide and his balls.

'Still running the ministry single-handedly, Miss Granger?'

She didn't need to turn to know who stood behind her.

Antonin Dolohov.

Or Mr. Pale Hottie as she called him in her mind!

She took her time, arranged her face in one of those it-is-so-nice-to-see-you faces that she knew he would see right through and turned.

'Ah, so it is one of those days,' he empathized as he came closer. 'People getting on your nerves?'

And just like that, the dam broke.

'You don't know the kind of morons I have to deal with…and in between that you send me the stupid dress…Harry is god knows where with gods know who…bloody gala in memory of all those who sacrificed their life…Rita Skeeter…'

And on and on she went as he sat beside her on the chair outside the room where her boss was possibly navigating a landmine all on his own.

Hades was enchanted with Hermione Granger, and she didn't even know it.

'Deep breaths, Miss Granger,' he advised.

'Fuck deep breaths! I'm going crazy organizing everything and then Harry has the gall to suggest that I open this ball with him. I can't dance.' She had her craziest expression on her face, one that terrified even the Lord of Underworld.

'But you did so in your fourth year. If I recall correctly, you did open the ball with Viktor Krum.'

'That was all Viktor,' she whispered conspiratorially. 'And Harry-' she shuddered '-he's got two left feet.'

This is what he liked about Hermione Granger.

This crazy non-stop tirade that she started was never for her benefit. She worried about the world and then got tired and went to her two room flat, greeted her tabby, ordered take-out, burned the midnight oil and then crashed wherever she was working.

He'd put her to bed many times, always making sure that her work was complete and waiting for her when she opened her eyes.

He knew it was creepy and gross violation of privacy, and he didn't need to look at Charon's judgmental face to remind himself that Hermione Granger still considered him an acquaintance. It was just that he didn't like watching her rub out kinks after kinks in the morning that she'd acquired by sleeping on a hardback chair, not to mention it was the only time she was not flaying him with her razor sharp tongue and he kinda liked her face when she slept-all soft and dreamy. It reminded him of the Hermione she had been before the bloody Voldemort fiasco. Before she'd taken on the role of the chief aide of savior Potter, he thought snidely.

Savior, his godly ass!

Had Hermione not spoon-fed every bit of information to that boy, he'd have been Voldemort's little bitch long ago.

If the Olympians would have had her zeal for work, they would have achieved wonders.

She even surpassed Athena in her love for knowledge.

He concentrated back on her and she was still going on and on about this bill that Wizengamot had refused to pass.

'…and that pussy Malfoy says, "Miss Granger, I think we pay enough to the woman folk who cannot get a husband and have to work to earn their living," as if I don't have men beating down my door to marry me.'

She grew sad then, her face falling, that fire in her eyes dimmed when she softly said, 'I don't have men beating down my door.'

'You have me,' he said automatically and didn't even regret it even for a moment because her eyes returned to their pre-Malfoy glory.

'I have, don't I?' she joked. 'So, tell me Mr. Dolohov, any chance you can sway your buddy Malfoy to vote for that bill?'

He looked contemplative for a moment before a predatory smile graced his lips. 'And what might you be willing to give me in return for such a favor, Miss Granger?'

'Let's say I won't be as antagonistic as I always am,' she remarked playfully.

He seemed to ponder over it, his long graceful fingers on his chin-he was the perfect picture of a renaissance thinker. 'But then what would be fun in it, Miss Granger? I like our verbal sparring. You are one of the very few people who dare to state your mind in my presence.'

She laughed and Hades felt as if he'd won the world.

She was a creature of simple habits and simpler needs. All she needed to be happy was a smile, not jewelry worth gazillions.

Hades still remembered the first time he'd met her.

He'd bumped into her while she'd been rushing about the atrium in ministry with an armful of files and papers. As those papers had drifted downwards, the atrium had frozen.

He'd crouched to collect the papers and then his eyes had met hers.

Dark earthy brown.

And he'd forgotten everything.

He'd forgotten he was Hades and he didn't pick papers from the ground.

He'd forgotten he wasn't supposed to apologize to a human, no matter how beautiful he found them to be.

He'd forgotten why he'd ventured above ground in the first place.

Something to do with his magical holdings yielding profit?

Had Charon not given him the discrete jab he'd have kept on staring. She'd bundled up her papers and then with her hand on her hips, she'd opened her mouth…and he'd fallen in love.

Sometimes he still thought this was some elaborate prank Eros had cooked up.

But Eros was too busy in admiring Psyche to spare any attention towards anything as devious as a prank.

'Antonin?' She gently touched his hand and he focused on her face again.

He still sometimes forgot that for her he was Antonin, not Hades.

Antonin Dolohov had been a persona he'd created a long time ago. Unlike his Olympian contemporaries, he liked to involve himself with humans. It was always a fascinating exercise, not to mention it alleviated his boredom.

Thankfully, he'd not participated in the Wizarding War because that would have been very tricky to explain to his brothers and sisters back at Olympus.

Something about running back to Russia to an ailing mother had satisfied Malfoy when he'd come back.

As if Gaia would ever fall sick…or be motherly!

'So, how was your day, Antonin?' she asked.

His day? It had been shite before he'd spied her sitting all alone here.

'Charon is still the same old Charon who starts on one topic and ends on another. My ventures are turning profit. My employees, I believe are happy in my employment.'

The sudden image of the three Furies in identical T-shirts reading "World's best boss" cracked him up.

When he stopped, she was staring at him. But this was not the usual stare he got during council meetings when he ventured on Olympus once a year. No, this look was nice.

'I've never heard you laugh,' she admitted quietly. 'You should smile more, Antonin. It brings out your eyes.'

His eyes? The same silver eyes with a speck of blue in them that Persephone had called creepy?

Hermione liked his eyes?

Butterflies burst in his chest.

'You could make me smile if you come to the gala with me…'

Her lips curved in the barest of smiles and her eyes grew a bit sad when she answered, 'I have to open the ball with Harry.'

Did this mean she wanted to go with him but couldn't because of that no-good Potter who couldn't be bothered to search for a date?

Why didn't he take that Weasley girl? She was always making googly eyes for Potter.

Or did this mean he'd finally worn her down and she felt sympathy for him?

Hades wanted Hermione to like him, not feel sympathy for him. And just like that, the perfect solution presented itself to him.

'Regarding your dancing problem,' he said as he took her hand in his. He could still smell the ink and parchment. She had been working the whole night again. 'I could teach you how to dance.'

She narrowed her eyes and looked at him as if she could make him reveal his deepest secrets. 'And you don't want anything in return?'

'Just a promise that you'll wear the dress I send and save one dance for me.'

'Just?' Her eyes widened in disbelief.

'Take it or leave it, Hermione.'

She seemed to ponder over it when the door of the room opened and minister Potter-that brat-walked out with his French counterpart.

He gave Hades a once over and his eyes tightened at the corners with displeasure.

Considered Hermione his, did this little punk?

'Owl me your address and time, Mr. Dolohov,' Hermione said suddenly, interrupting his stare fest with Minister Potter.

He gave her quick smile before standing up and taking her hand to kiss her goodbye, while dearest Harry Potter kept glaring daggers at him…

* * *

'How's my hair, Charon?'

'Perfect, my lord. But I fail to see what your hair has got to do with your dancing skills?'

'Shut up, Charon.'

'Yes, my lord.' Charon rolled his eyes at Hades' back and settled in the corner of the sitting room of the manor that had been dusted within an inch of its life.

Hades started pacing again, wearing the carpet thin.

'The agreed time is still an hour away, my lord,' Charon tried again.

'But Hermione is always prompt, Charon,' Hades argued.

'Promptness isn't arriving an hour early on a strange man's doorstep, my lord.'

Silence reigned for few more minutes before Hades opened his mouth again, 'Do you think this color brings out my eyes, Charon? Hermione likes my eyes…'

And on and on it went until the quiet knock on his door disturbed his largely one-sided conversation with Charon.

* * *

Some might think that Persephone lacked sleuthing abilities-being the spring goddess and all. But she would like to tell all those jealous people that she would make one hell of a Sherlock Holmes. It was the paramount evidence of her abilities that she was tailing this woman with shudder-worthy hair without being noticed.

She had one of those huge hats that these witches loved to wear perched jauntily atop her head. The weight was making her a bit dizzy, but nothing less that solid gold-for queen, no ex-queen soon to be the queen of Underworld again-would do.

Half of her face was covered by the huge sunglasses that Muggle celebrities preferred.

In short, she looked barmier than Dumbledore on his Muggle world visiting days.

She had tricked one of the Furies in divesting the information about Hades' whereabouts and a little bit of connecting the dots had resulted in a situation where she'd made all the plants wilt with her hyperventilation.

Hades was seeing…a mortal.

Not even a nymph, an ariad or a naiad, but a sodding mortal?

The said mortal woman turned sharply and Persephone somehow turned her face and started looking at the entrance of Knockturn Alley with a vacant gaze.

Hades could do better than this plebian.

He could take her back.

They'd made the perfect couple, hadn't they?

So lost in her thoughts she was that she almost missed the disapparating woman.

It was time to put stop to this budding romance once and for all...

* * *

Hermione waited for Antonin to open his door as she surreptitiously glanced around, looking for that woman who'd been following her since Diagon Alley.

Who wore solid gold hats?

The door opened before she could knock again, and there he was.

Hotness personified with a personality and intellect to boot.

Antonin Dolohov.

Had Hermione known Russians were this attractive, she'd have migrated to Russia years ago. But then Viktor had been…so so.

But then Bulgaria was a different place than Russia.

He had one of those timeless faces that could only be described as something akin to godly or otherworldly. His pale forehead was slashed with brows that gave the center stage to his curiously beautiful silver eyes. They had to have blue flecks in them for when the light hit right, his eyes were revelations of palest blue.

His straight nose was bumped as if he'd broken it, but it added to his allure rather than detracted from it. Slashing cheekbones combined with sharp jaw line to produce a very attractive hollow in the cheeks.

And the lips-dear lord, the lips!

Hermione swore that she'd imagined kissing those lips the first time she'd ever seen him, even before knowing him.

'Are you coming inside?' he quirked an eyebrow. Hermione could imagine herself following him anywhere if he used this voice-husky and deep.

Well, let's face it; he usually spoke in the same voice, so she would follow him like a faithful slave if he opened his mouth.

'Hermione?'

'Huh?' She shook her head to clear these weird thoughts and looked around, and as expected she found the top of a golden bunch of grapes atop a hat peeking from behind a tree.

Weird people! This woman must be a fan of Minister Potter and she was tailing Hermione in hopes that Hermione would introduce her to Harry.

As if Harry needed any more help in the ladies department!

She walked into the foyer and was startled for a moment.

This place…was fit for a king.

Tall soaring ceilings, huge chandeliers, wide sweeping staircases from where she could see, huge glass windows that somehow defied her knowledge of gothic architecture, marble floors that were waylaid with gold and silver patterns-just how rich was Antonin?

Because this place screamed wealth far more loudly than Malfoy's Manor house.

'Your coat, Miss Ganger?' Antonin's personal secretary, Charon-now what kind of parents named their kid after the ferryman of Styx?-asked.

She shrugged out of her favorite dark blue long coat and handed it over.

'You look like a cat lost in a forest,' Antonin joked.

'You mean lost in a museum,' she said as she examined the portrait of a buffed-up chap in worn out Levi and T-shirt holding a miniature lightning bolt alongside one she was sure was a Monet.

Decent taste in Muggle paintings?

Where had Antonin Dolohov been hiding all his life?

'Underworld,' he answered. She blushed from tips of her hair to her toes when she realized that she'd said the last statement out loud.

Still laughing, he guided her past from foyer to give her a tour of his home…

* * *

Persephone was not a happy goddess!

Sitting on a rope of climbers was making her ass sore, not to mention ruining the crease of her dress. Her face was pressed against the glass window that let her peek inside the vast ballroom of this mansion that Hades had started frequenting recently.

She'd obviously sanitized the glass first.

Inside, that woman and Hades were twirling. He was saying something that was making the woman giggle at frequent intervals.

That hussy!

Persephone wanted to cover the cow in enough flowering plants to suffocate her. Or better she could ask dad to smite her with one of his lightning bolts.

Persephone was not a happy goddess as she sat with a sore ass, watching her former husband practically salivate over the ugly mortal.

* * *

'Antonin?'

'Hmm?'

'Why is there a woman pressed against the window?' She didn't want to disturb this pleasant lethargy but a smashed face against the window pane was not something that could be ignored. Hermione was sure it was the same woman who'd been following her.

'What?'Antonin turned sharply towards the direction of the glass, still holding Hermione.

The woman waved, and Hermione could swear Antonin had cursed explicitly in Greek.

'Charon,' he bellowed and in an instant, his personal aide materialized beside him out of smoke.

'You called, Lord Ha-' he looked at her and cleared his throat before adding, 'Master Antonin?'

What was going on? And what was with the smoke?

What kind of apparition was this?

Now, come to think about it, she hadn't seen Antonin use his wand even for once. What kind of wizard was he?

'Get her away from my sight,' Antonin said through clenched teeth.

'But lord-'

'If she's not gone within minutes, Charon, consider yourself demoted!'

The word had an instantaneous effect and Charon dematerialized even before Antonin had finished his statement.

She, being a hard working career woman, could understand Charon's hurry.

'Who's she, Antonin?' she asked, still enclosed in his arms.

'Just a crazy fan, Hermione,' he answered tiredly.

Her fingers rose to touch the lines that had appeared on his forehead and at the corners of his eye. 'Do you want me to deal with her?'

He gave her a smile and tightened his arms. 'Thank you, but you don't need to worry, Hermione.'

They stood staring at the window and soon the rope and woman were gone.

Only to pop into existence right beside them!

* * *

 **So, what's the verdict?**

 **Is Persephone gonna drag Antonin aka Hades away from Hermione, or is daddy Zeus gonna smite our favorite bookworm? What's the deal with womanizing minister Potter?**

 **And is Charon gonna keep his job and not get demoted again?**

 **Stay tuned for the next chapter, same day next week!**

 **Eos signing off!**

 **Peace and love, peeps!**

 **Peace and love!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: I suck at being funny.**

* * *

 _Why are they so red, the seeds that you feed me?_

 _Through them, have you gifted me immortality?_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Being a wallflower in the ministry ball was the most humiliating experience of Hermione's life, and she blamed that slick I'm-uber-mega-hot-sexy-Dolohov for that.

Had he not been so charming and shit, she wouldn't have promised to keep her dance card open exclusively for him after opening the ball with Harry.

And damn Harry-bloody-Potter for being a pussy!

Her no good best friend had called two hours before opening the ball that Ginny Weasley would be dangling like a red haired she-devil that she was in a glitzy dress on his arm.

So, here she was, alone and dateless while witches and wizards twirled around the dance floor on the mellow beats that were being dished out by "The Weird Sisters".

And Antonin Dolohov—she would kick the man in nuts if she saw him next.

That day when they had been having a moment before she'd spotted the crazy lady pressed against the glass, it had felt as if she could spend all her life in his arms.

Well, not all her life as it would be technically and biologically impossible, but yeah you get the general romantic idea.

But then the crazy bitch had popped into existence and Antonin had directed his secretary Charon to see her out.

As if she were some unwanted guest.

As if the megahot douche hadn't begged for her amazing company!

She'd not seen Antonin Dolohov since that day, and she had chucked the dress and shoes that had been left on her doorstep, curtsey his royal assholiness, in one of the toilets on her way to the ministry.

So, here she was, hiding in the shadows along the wall as she watched Harry dance awkwardly with Ginny and Lucius Malfoy trying to drag Narcissa for one more dance.

'Hello, Hermione,' someone whispered in her ears and she did what most normal people did in such situations.

She hexed the bastard…

* * *

Eros, also known as Cupid, God of Love, winged baby to teenagers and prankster extraordinaire to his relatives winced as Hermione Granger offered him her hand to get up from the floor where he was sprawled on his ass.

Damn, this witch could use her wand!

It also didn't help that he'd borrowed the face of her teenage tormentor for this meeting, but seriously who was much prettier than Draco Malfoy in the wizarding world?

And Eros could never have an ugly meatsuit, no matter the circumstance.

'Malfoy!' she spat as she looked at him suspiciously.

Her eyes narrowed in the same fashion as his mother's when Aphrodite discovered that someone had been in her make-up collection.

'Sweetness! Aren't I glad to see you.' He went in for the hug when she promptly stepped away.

'Have you gone mental, Malfoy? Mudblood, remember?'

Shit! That little shite Draco Malfoy. Eros had forgotten what a prejudiced little ass the guy was.

'I thought on the eve of another anniversary of the war, I should officially turn over a new leaf by apologizing to you for my atrocious behavior during our teenage years,' he said solemnly.

Take that suspicious little witch! And after he was done tonight, no pureblood would welcome Draco Malfoy with open arms.

Cough, blood traitor, cough!

'New leaf, huh?' She said after sometime. 'Well, the least you could is ask me for a dance.'

Shit!

Eros had so not foreseen this. If he didn't ask her for dance, she would kick his ass for being a hypocrite and not wanting to touch her inferior skin and if he asked her for dance, then Uncle Hades would bury him alive somewhere deep in Underworld, not to mention the tantrum Psyche would throw for dancing with another woman.

Rock, meet hard place!

'Malfoy!'

'Yes, sweetness?' he replied distractedly, still debating how to get out of this fix, but before he could decide something, she'd grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor.

The music was one of those slow swaying types that was designed to bring the dance partners in a very intimate embrace.

Eros was definitely a dead god!

'Malfoy?'

'Hmm?'

'Why do you look like someone who's severely constipated and needs to use the loo, pronto?'

'Well, when one is dancing with you, the danger of finding oneself at the wrong end of the wand is a given, sweetness.'

'What do you mean?' Her eyebrows drew together in middle and she scrunched her nose in what humans would call a somewhat cute way. But seriously, she just looked whacky by godly perspectives. How had Hades fallen in love with her?

She was so bossy and she was only passably pretty—

'Malfoy!'

'Well, we are dancing and I can see Potter fuming in that corner he's dancing with red-haired tramp—' she gave a small giggle at that, '—and I can predict that savior of all, Saint Potter is gonna be here within minutes to order me away from your person. But seriously, does that boy not own a comb?'

'What?' she looked at him as if he were barmy.

'And in one of the corners is Weaslebee, looking at you with hungry eyes, ready to consume you in a single bite.'

'Eww, Malfoy!'

'And moving on, we have Bulgaria's most eligible bachelor, Victor Krum. The severe looking wizard can't help himself from gazing longingly in your direction. He wants to break my pretty face and steal you away to some castle where he can get to know his Herm-own-ninny.'

'Shut up, Malfoy,' she said through red face, aware that people were staring at them.

'No seriously, sweetness. There are a lot of wizards here tonight, who would like you see their wands.'

Understanding dawned on her face almost immediately and she gave him one of her "I'm Hermione Granger, don't mess with me" looks.

'Even Potter wants to know what kinda knickers you prefer,' Eros said seriously.

'Malfoy! You're a nasty piece of work, you know that?'

Judgmental little chit!

'What I am saying is that you have many admirers, sweetness.'

'Admirers and me?' she huffed. 'You really have turned a new leaf, Malfoy.'

She didn't believe him! Nobody had ever doubted his words before. It was a novel experience for the God of Love.

'You don't believe me?' he asked her.

She shook her head.

'Well, I'm going to do something which will make you wanna punch me, but please don't because I'm doing this to prove to you, that you indeed have admirers, sweetness,' he said hurriedly and before she could say anything, he'd planted his lips on hers...

* * *

'Eros!'

The roar made him stumble away from Hermione Granger and before he could process anything, a fist was rammed in his face.

He fell on the ground, groaning from the pain as people gathered around to enjoy the drama that was about to unfold.

Imagine the scandal, Draco Malfoy kissing Hermione Granger on the dance floor!

Imagine an even bigger scandal, Eros trying to cheat on Psyche, his eternal love!

Oh, the fun Olympians would have on his expense!

But it was okay. He would manfully face the jabs, the sniggers, the trolls who would roast him on the Olympian twitter. He was God of Love. It was the least he could do for Hades' happily ever after.

Eros didn't need to look at the man to know who had punched him. Only Hades had that mean left hook, and only Hades smelled of cold and pomegranates.

'What the fuck do you think you are doing?' Hermione screeched.

Eros wanted to cover his ears but that would be so rude. He was sure the black eye Hades had given him won't fade for days and as for this nose, he was sure Hades had broken it.

The injuries would be carried over to his godly form which sucked.

Big time.

'I'm saving you, Hermione,' Dolohov answered patiently.

'Saving me?' She turned on him, a pint sized David ready to take on the Goliath. 'You have no right to save me.'

'Hermione, love, listen to me—'

'No, you listen to me, Dolohov. I'm not some Knockturn alley hussy that you can throw out of your house when your classy friends come to visit.'

'You did what?' Of course, Saint Potter had to join the fray. 'I will kill you, you bastard. How dare you steal Hermione's virtue?'

Stealing virtue? How medieval could Potter get?

Hermione rolled her eyes at Potter's declaration, concentrating on Dolohov instead. 'You didn't owl, didn't even send me a note as to why I found myself shown to the door by your secretary. You just sent the dress as if I was supposed to don it and wait for you to pick me up like a good girl.'

'Hermione, Persephone isn't some—'

'I don't care who the hell Persephone is!'

Thunder roared in the sky. This mortal was really pushing Zeus by insulting his favorite daughter. Eros won't be surprised if lightening struck the ministry ballroom and Hermione Granger was turned into a pillar of salt.

'Listen to me, Hermione. We should take this outside,' Dolohov suggested, but Hermione Granger was having none of it.

'No, we aren't going anywhere. We are doing this here and now.' This was so out of character for Hermione. She had always been the one to never make a scene in public. In fact, she hated being the centre of attention. So, either she'd gone crazy or Dolohov had made her really mad.

'You were the one who went out of his way to charm me,' she accused. 'You kept on pestering me until I said yes, and the moment I do, you behave as if you don't care.'

Eros heard a collective sigh across the ballroom when Granger said Hades had pursued her till she yielded. Women, they found the creepiest things adorable!

As if the mayhem wasn't enough, the real Draco Malfoy came sauntering in the ballroom with Astoria Greengrass on his arm and shrieked like a girl when he saw Eros sitting on the floor.

'Imposter,' Lucius Malfoy bellowed, his mane of platinum hair swinging like a curtain in front of his face as he tried to apprehend Eros.

'Bloody hell,' said Ronald Weasley.

'Drakey, there's another you,' yelped Pansy Parkinson.

'You are ordered to disclose your identity,' stated Minister Potter.

'Petrificus Totalus,' yelled Hermione Granger.

'Shit,' said Antonin Dolohov before vanishing with Eros and taking Hermione along with him.

* * *

Apparition had never felt like this before!

Hermione lowered her head and tried to take deep breaths. It had felt as if someone had disintegrated her body down to the smallest atom only to put her back again.

In an entirely different place from where she'd been.

It was worse than apparition, infinitely worse.

She looked around to gauze where they were. As far as she could see, there was nothing but green fields stretching in every direction.

The bastard had brought her in the middle of nowhere!

'Hermione, are you okay?' Dolohov asked, concern evident in his voice, and in his eyes which Hermione would've seen had she paid closer attention

She rounded at Dolohov like a snake, well make it a dizzy snake, ready to strike and sink her fangs. 'What the fuck did you do?'

'He made sure we are far away from mortal ears, sweetness,' said Eros, still wearing the face of Draco Malfoy, only to earn another punch in his face.

'Oww! What was that for?' he asked indignantly.

'You don't get to call her sweetness, Eros,' Hades growled.

'His name is Draco Malfoy!'

'No, it isn't,' Hades said wearily. 'Hermione, he is Eros, the god of love.'

'Shut up! I went to school with a god who was a bully?'

Eros saw no way out of it and so he did what gods do when they get in a pretty uncomfortable position.

He revealed himself to her in all his godly glory, wings and all!

By the look on her face, he should've done this sooner.

She'd at least shut up, but she was about to faint.

No use sticking around now. Hades could take care of her and face her wrath…

* * *

 **I hope Eros gets a kick in his nuts!**

 **Read and review, peeps!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi!**

 **Long time, I know, but life was dancing with me.**

 **So, how have you guys been?**

* * *

 _One seed from the forbidden fruit,  
_

 _and you'll never be misunderstood..._

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

She was in shock.

Draco Malfoy was…a god.

No, a god looked like Draco Malfoy?

Fuck!

Fuckkity fucking fucktastic fuck!

'Hermione?'

Dolohov's tone was apprehensive as if he were afraid she'd been broken by the revelation of the fact that god of love wore her arch-nemesis' face.

'Did…did you know about him?'

'Yes.'

'Fuck! You hit a god for me?' she asked in awe and answered the question herself with a dark look on her face. 'Of course, you hit a god! You were trying to maintain your badass, uber-macho image weren't you?'

'Hermione, _dragaya_ , are you feeling well?' It was apparently a very stupid question to ask because she leveled him with a stare that would've frozen the toughest souls of the underworld in any act of rebellion.

'Turning over a new leaf, my ass,' she muttered. 'I should've known something was fishy when Draco-sodding-Malfoy approached me out of the blue and decided we needed a spin on the dance floor!'

'Hermione, I…I need to tell you something, dragaya.'

'I need to get back to the ministry. Harry must be going out of his mind.' She pointedly ignored him and turned to apparate away only to realize she didn't have her wand.

'Dolohov, where's my wand?'

'Hermione, we need to talk.'

'I need to get back to Harry and contain this PR shitstorm. People need reassurance that there isn't a new dark lord on the horizon.'

'I need to tell you something very important,' he said desperately, his eyes a little crazy.

'Well, guess what, Dolohov? I am not interested in any shit that comes outta your mouth.'

He took a few deep breaths for patience. He would need all his godly composure to cut through this disaster. 'Hermione, I'm not who you think I am.'

'Well, what's new, Dolohov? You should've mentioned you've got a lady already and I'm only a side piece.'

'Side piece?' He was bewildered.

'Whats-her-name Persephone looked awfully chummy with you that day.'

' _Dragaya_ , you've no idea what you're talking about. But let me tell you, you're so far off the mark when it comes to Persephone.'

'So, you are more than chummy with her?' she asked, horrified.

'I won't touch Persephone with a ten-foot pole!'

Thunder rolled in the distance and lightning cracked the sky in two. Suddenly, the storm clouds started gathering overhead.

'It's not going to rain on top of everything, is it?' Before she'd completed the sentence, big fat drops of water started falling from the sky. Zeus must be feeling gleeful.

'Cut the shit, baby brother,' Hades shouted at the heavens.

Hermione looked funnily at him. 'Dolohov, are you feeling well?'

'I'm fine, _dragaya_. I'm just sick of my family meddling in things they've no business poking their godly noses into.'

'Godly? Isn't that a bit conceited, Dolohov?'

'Hades was always quite proud of our godliness, human,' a man said from behind her, and she hastily turned to look at the newcomer.

He was a buff dude. Golden-haired, tanned, and clad in tight denim and a dark grey Henley. And most definitely an American. His eyes were electric blue. Many would've equated the color with that of lightning that had heralded his arrival.

'So, you cast aside my lovely Persephone for…this?' He pointed in Hermione's direction as if she were an exhibit, or worse, a tramp.

'Excuse me!' Hermione said indignantly. The nerve of the man. She didn't even know the guy, and here he was—insulting her.

'Excused.' To Hermione's utter goggle-eyed befuddlement, the man went on to wave a dismissive hand in her direction.

'Were you so desperate to get laid that you talked yourself into almost committing bestiality?' the guy asked Dolohov. For a moment Hermione couldn't follow his argument, but then, almost instantly it dawned on her that the newcomer was calling her an animal. She was about to cast a hex in his direction, but then she remembered that she didn't have her wand.

Fucking Dolohov!

Before she could deliver a scathing reply to the dude, Dolohov beat her to it.

'You left Olympus to come here and goad me into beating the shit out of you, baby brother?'

'I should've left you to rot in dad's stomach. That would've taught you a lesson.' The man scowled.

'Get to the point or go away, Zeus.'

'Oliver, big brother. I go by Oliver in the human realm.'

'Ah…the vigilante of Star City.' Dolohov nodded in concentration. 'So, have you managed to bone the lovely Felicity?'

'I was about to, but apparently, you sent Persephone crying to Olympus and you know how Demeter gets when tears come out of our daughter's eyes.'

'I'd told you to keep your dick in check with Demeter, but did you listen? I'd told you she was one of the fertile ones, being a goddess of agriculture and…stuff.'

'So, long story short, I'd to leave lovely Felicity to come pummel some sense into you.'

Hermione was going to get a whiplash from following this conversation. They must be talking in some sort of code.

'Dolohov—' she started but Oliver cut in between.

'I must say, you are quite gutsy, human. You set your cap for the Lord of Underworld himself!'

Underworld? Was Antonin some sort of gangster? Was he like that Corleone fellow that she'd read about in that Mario Puzo book?

'Leave her out of this, Zeus,' Dolohov barked. 'She's got nothing to do with what happened between your daughter and me.'

'Nothing?' Zeus raised a perfect dark blonde brow. 'On the contrary, Hades, she's the reason you and Persephone are no longer together.'

'You were in a relationship with your own niece?' Hermione cried in disgust. 'That's incest.'

Oliver-Zeus-whatever his name was doubled up in laughter and Dolohov scrunched his face in repulsion. 'When you put it like that…'

'Haven't you told your human that gods don't care about stuff like that?'

'Shut up, Zeus, and go away. You're irritating,' Dolohov growled.

'Only because you feel threatened by my sexual magnetism. Are you afraid this human will start worshipping on my altar?' He wiggled his eyebrows. 'Brit brunettes aren't my type these days.'

'Fuck off!'

'Not before I talk some sense into you, Hades,' Oliver-Zeus said amicably. 'You and Persephone have a history together.'

'Yes, history. Past. Not future, baby brother.'

'She loves you, and she's been the ideal wife—'

Dolohov tackled the man before he could finish his sentence. They rolled on the damp ground while a bewildered Hermione watched on.

The guy had called Dolohov Hades. And Dolohov had said he'd known about Eros being Draco Malfoy. Did that mean…?

No.

No, that was preposterous.

Greek Gods were…not real.

Lightning forked the sky to fall where Dolohov's head had been just a second ago. A scream lodged itself in Hermione's throat as she saw the men grappling on the ground.

'Now you've done it,' Dolohov spat.

Hermione shrieked as skeletal hands started forcing their way out of the ground.

'I'm not scared of your bones, Hades.' Oliver-Zeus cracked his knuckles, his eyes almost maniacal on the prospect of thrashing Hades' minions.

'They're just for diversion, baby brother.' Dolohov smirked and in the blink of an eye, he was sporting the coolest helm she'd ever seen and the bident clutched surely in his hand gleamed obsidian in the bright white flash of lightning.

He…he couldn't be.

Hades.

Dolohov _wasn't_ a Greek God.

Oliver-Zeus chose that moment to blast a skeleton to smithereens and he spread his arms as if he were ready to embrace Dolohov. Lightning raced down from the sky to wrap itself around the man like a snake. He laughed at the sheer joy of it.

'It has been quite a while since we went toe to toe, Hades,' he called out.

Dolohov plunged his bident in the crackling energy that enveloped the man. She watched spellbound as they fought.

Two gods enjoying their powers.

They were…gods.

Dolohov was a god.

He was a god with capital G.

He was fucking Hades!

Hermione Granger was made of a sterner stuff, but even she felt like vomiting and fainting.

She'd flirted with a being that had absolute control over where her soul would end up.

 _She'd been courted by a god_. Well, that was flattering as well as nauseating.

'Off you go, Zeus. Back to whatever you were doing.' She heard Dolohov, no, Hades say.

'You must like this human, Hades, to fight with such vigor.' He winced before he straightened himself and smirked at her.

'It would serve you right if I incinerated you, human,' he said. 'Hades would stay mad for a couple of thousand years, but he would crawl back to Persephone in the end.'

Hades slipped her wand into her hand while Zeus kept saying something that she was really not paying attention to. The weight of her wand felt comfortable in her hands.

Then Hermione Granger did something that she'd never in her wildest dreams thought she would do. She cast a bat bogey hex at Zeus, the Lord of the Sky and heard his high pitched scream before he disappeared amid the dire threats of erasing her from the existence itself.

Silence spread over the English countryside. Hermione was lost somewhere in the land of stunned disbelief, Hades in panic.

'Hermione?'

'You lied to me.' She didn't know how those words had come out of her mouth. 'Antonin Dolohov. Not bloody likely!'

Hades knew what he'd done. He'd simply given her the name he preferred in the human realm and well, he'd omitted a lot of things that he should have told her about.

But that didn't mean that he'd lied to her, did it? In godly terms, that didn't amount to a lie.

He'd been truthful and upfront about his feelings.

'Hermione—'

'Were you having a good laugh behind my back?' she asked, her face agonized. 'Were you chortling with your cronies about the stupid human who thought you were a swell guy, who fell for your sullen charms, who couldn't help but argue with you because you were one of the few people who could keep up with everything that came out of my mouth?'

Tears were gathering at the corner of her eyes. 'I was stupid, wasn't I, Hades?' she emphasized his name bitterly, and he almost wanted to reach out and say that he preferred Antonin from her lips.

Well, almost. You see, he had planned for an eternity with Hermione and it would become a tad uncomfortable if she refused to call him by his given name.

And as for her question, he wanted to issue a quick, vehement denial. She was the most brilliant person of his acquaintance. She was beautiful, compassionate, talented and most of all, humane.

She didn't have the air of ennui that gods of Olympus sported. With her, everything was passion and heat. Her thoughts kept Hades warm in the darkest, coldest of nights.

He hadn't fallen for her because she had a pretty face. Had he been an ardent devotee of flesh and looked only for beauty, he would've gone after naiads and minor goddesses. No, he'd fallen for her because she was the perfect example of life, of vitality. Many would declare that thousand years of semi co-existence with Persephone had made him go bonkers and forced him to look for greener pastures and that he was fixated on Hermione because she was the very opposite of his wife.

They would be wrong by a long shot.

'I want to go back,' she said, at last, her eyes on the ground. Things could only go downhill, and most importantly, Harry must be going crazy.

'You would've accepted me had I been any other god, right Hermione?' he asked softly.

Her head came up and she looked at him as if he'd grown an extra head. He'd have loved to see her reaction when he introduced her to Cerberus, but alas, it was one of those things that would never come to pass now it seemed.

'What do you mean any other god?'

'Had I been Apollo, or perchance Ares, you would've forgiven my omission.'

'What do you take me for, Hades?' She looked at him incredulously. 'Do you think I'm some sort of Olympian groupie?'

'I lied to you because I knew you would run in other direction if you knew who I really was!'

'How patronizing! You thought wrong!' she shouted and in one quick step, she was on to him, punching him and trying to claw at his face. 'You bastard! You godly motherfucking bastard! Relationship is a two way street! You broke my fucking heart.'

They both stilled at her admission.

'You are breaking mine now,' he said tenderly. 'I love you. Like crazy. Like I don't know what to do when you're near me. Like I want to kiss you and fuck you and want to feed you the pomegranate seeds so that you never leave my sight.'

She was startled by his confession, and then suddenly her face contorted in horror and she sprung away from him as if he was some foul, vile creature.

'You're married!'

'No, I'm not,' he retorted instantly.

'Bollocks! The woman that day was your wife. Fuck, she's Zeus's daughter. Persephone—she's the goddess of spring.'

'My ex-wife,' he clarified. 'I divorced her.'

'Gods can divorce? But isn't your marriage like for eternity and all that shit?' she asked, baffled for once.

'Nope. Hephaestus divorced Aphrodite ages ago and Amphitrite and Poseidon are seeing a counselor about the troubles in their marriage.'

'Counselor?'

'Sure,' he answered as he pulled her into his arms. All her resistance and anger was lost for a moment over bizarre things about Gods that she was hearing about for the first time. 'Poseidon is a serial womanizer despite the ring on his finger. And between you and me, he's got a mile long streak of exhibitionism,' he whispered conspiratorially.

'What about you? Are you one of those gods who forget their better halves when they see a comely maiden?'

'Believe it or not, _dragaya_ , I'm a one-woman kind of man.'

'Really?'

'Oh yes.'

'So, should we start over?' she asked, her head tilted up as she gazed into his bluish silver eyes.

'I think our start has already been magnificent.'

'Even though I'm crazy about you, I'm going to give you grief about this for a very long time,' she said softly.

'I will bear it with a smile, and it's nice to know that my feelings aren't one-sided or unrequited,' he answered.

'Are you going to kidnap me and take me to your dark lair now, Lord Hades?'

'Do you want to be taken to my lair, _dragaya_?'

'I wouldn't mind being ravished. I've read a lot about it.'

'In steamy historicals while imagining me as the male lead, I suppose?'

'Oh, yes.'

'Then ravishing it is, Hermione,' he answered sweetly as his lips touched hers and they disappeared in the dark of the night, the smell of pomegranate and lavender heavy in the countryside air…

* * *

 **Sadly, Eros didn't get any kick in the nuts!**

 **So, it's the end.**

 **Or is it?**


End file.
